Drowning your Sorrows by Land and by Sea
by Elliotsmelliot
Summary: Some lies are just waiting to be confessed to the right person. Features: Jack, Penny, Kate, Hurley and Sayid. Post Other Woman. Spoilers up to The Other Woman.
1. Chapter 1

Frankly Jack had expected her sooner. Upon arrival in Los Angeles, he had scanned the crowd greeting the survivors even though he was not quite sure what she looked liked. Blonde and rich was all he had to go on; determined and sceptical, he expected. He was primed for her to emerge from the sunlight or shadows with the will and evidence to challenge their lies.

When months passed and Penny Widmore had not attempted to contact Jack or any of the others, he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved. It was possible she too had been forced to swallow their story, for her own safety or because the search for a man who couldn't be found proved too frustrating. He hadn't entirely discounted the possibility that her quest had only ever existed in the fractured recesses of Desmond's mind.

Just when Jack had stopped craning his neck for her, he found a flyer tucked under the wiper of his car, and from what he could see, every vehicle surrounding his in the hospital parking lot. He wouldn't have given it a second thought except he had seen the same one stapled to a telephone pole outside the entrance to Elysian Park where he ran every evening and another posted in the mailroom of his condo. Across the top, the word "MISSING" was printed in block letters and in the centre was a photocopy of a little black dog. At the bottom it listed a phone number and promised a reward for information leading to the return of Desmond. When he got home, Jack searched the internet to confirm what he already suspected; the dog was indeed a Scottish terrier.

The flyer lay folded in his glove compartment for a week before he decided to call the number from a pay phone outside a bar in Encino. It took three beers and two shots of tequila before his fingers were steady enough to dial.

A woman answered on the third ring, her voice, barely a whisper. "Hello?" Those two syllables came across tense with anticipation, a greeting masquerading as a plea and a promise. Jack did not intend to say anything, which he realized then, was almost the same as a saying everything. He was about to cut his silent confession off when she spoke again in a more demanding tone.

"Hello? Dr. Shephard? Ja—."

Appalled at her certainty that it was him, he hung up. Jack wiped his clammy hands on his jeans and returned to the bar where he ordered another beer and shot. It had been a test, one which he had decidedly failed. If she tried again, he wouldn't make the same mistake. Her response indicated he was her only target. Hurley and Kate's current confinements made it difficult for Penny to play the same tricks with them. The Kwons were on the other side of the world, and so desperate to remain unscathed that they were the least likely to break. As for Sayid, he didn't seem to be staying in any one place for very long.

Jack sat at the bar for a while longer but left the new drinks untouched. The alcohol only made his dreams more vivid and there was no doubt that sleep would take him to the island that night. When he woke later, his heart hammering, legs twisted in the sheets and body slick with sweat, he didn't remember a thing but he knew he had gone back to a time and place that he claimed never existed. It didn't matter. Saying what really happened might ease his conscience but the truth wouldn't bring peace to anyone.

Penny waited until Kate's trial was over to ambush him again. Although her choice for a meeting was most likely arranged with practicality in mind, for Jack it was altogether too poignant in its familiarity. He had gone running after his shift, the one part of the day he truly felt free. When he ran it was harder for everything to catch up, he could settle into a groove, calmed by the beat of his feet and banish everything, everyone. He could believe he was no longer being chased; he was in pursuit, one step ahead.

That night he had circled the ravine twice and was cooling down with a jog through the arboretum when he found a woman huddled on the side of the path holding her right ankle. It was rare this late to come across anyone, let alone a woman by herself. This was the classic bait for a mugging so he was already on alert when he approached her.

He slowed to a walk and lifted his shirt to wipe his face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I think I twisted my ankle."

"Let me take a look at it. I'm a doctor." He approached her, showing her his hands, realizing she had probably more reason to be afraid of him.

"Just my luck."

Jack knelt in front of her, tenderly probing the joint. He unlaced her runner and gently removed the shoe and sock. After a cursory exam, he looked up, mildly confused. "I don't see any redness or swelling. Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere."

That's when he knew. It wasn't the mess of blonde hair under the ball cap or the accent or the fact that her ankle looked perfectly fine. It was Penny's eyes; they were full of judgement and reminded him of Hurley's and Kate's and his own, except unlike theirs, hers was still twinged with optimism.

His eyes dropped to the dirt and his hands left her foot. It took all his effort not to flee. "Well, keep it elevated and try to stay off it for a while."

"Can't you help me?"

Jack stood and took a step backward. "Are you parked nearby? I can help you to your car."

"That's not what I mean."

He forced himself to look her in the eye. "I don't know what you mean."

"Jack."

He let his jaw drop as if it was only dawning on him now that things were not as they appeared. "I don't talk to reporters."

Penny held his eyes as she pulled on her sock and shoe. "Maybe you don't know who I am and if that's the case, I'm truly sorry. If so then it won't be hard to look me in the eye and tell me Charlie Pace did not survive the plane crash."

Her words should have made him flinch but they only awoke the lies. "Look, a lot people have come to me, wanting me to tell them something about their loved ones. I'm sorry. Even if I saw your friend on the plane, smiled at him at the check-in, caught his eye while we were going down, I don't remember."

This is where he should have walked away. He knew staying would only feed her suspicion but he felt stuck, trapped by her gaze. Finally Penny stood up, dusting the dirt from her shorts and legs.

"What happens to the body when a person drowns?"

The lungs fill with water and the body is deprieved of oxygen. If not revived in time, the patient goes into cardiac arrest. He almost said this to her but he sensed she was not looking for a clinical response.

"Have you ever watched a man drown? Do you know what that sounds like, Jack?"

Boone came to mind but the memory of dragging him from the water was overshadowed by watching him die far from the ocean. That wasn't the point. His anger was for real now. She had no right to talk to him this way and he didn't want to know where she was going with this line of questioning. "This has to stop now."

She grabbed his arm before he could move away. He tried to shake off her grip but she held tight, digging her nails into his arm like he was her lifeline to a distance shore. With her free hand, Penny unzipped the pouch at her waist removed a CD in a case and pressed it against his chest.

"The video cuts out after thirty seconds, but the audio lasts a lot longer. If you can still deny me after watching this, then there's no point in us meeting again. Otherwise, you have my number."

With that ultimatum, she let go of the CD and he caught it. Penny turned and jogged away without a backward glance. He watched her go, tiny clouds of dust kicked up at her heels. Even when she was out of sight, the thrall she had over him was slow to subside. He busied himself, tightening and retying his laces, the CD still clutched in one hand. He's not sure how long he fiddled with his shoes, long enough for him to decide he's not watching anything. If a few minutes alone with a stranger can tempt him to renege on everything, he's afraid at what the sight of something more familiar would do. He straightens, up roots himself and starts walking back toward his car.

On his way, Jack contemplates tossing the CD into the woods or a trashcan but he knows seen or unseen, what's on this video cannot so easily be discarded.

x x x

"When does it end, Jack?" Kate asks. "What privileges this woman's grief above everyone else's, above our safety? She's not the first or the last to want answers and she has the money and resources to be a real problem. I can't believe you're considering speaking to her."

"I know." Jack sighs and folds over in his chair with his head in his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, the only way he ever looks at Aaron these days, he watches the boy place a red cube on top of a tower of blocks. It's leaning precariously to one side but Aaron's not daunted. He places another and then stands with a handful of rainbow coloured blocks so he can better reach the teetering column.

Jack has not revealed to Kate or anyone that he has already spoken to Penny. Nor has he mentioned that for over a week he's been in possession of a CD that he's certain contains footage of Charlie in the Looking Glass. In an attempt to gauge her reaction, all he's shown Kate is the lost dog poster.

"She's better off not knowing."

"Is she?"

"What would you tell her? Do you really have the words for what happened?"

It's not that the words that are hard to come by, even for him. There are plenty of verbs and adjectives to describe those last days and all that came before. It's the meaning behind them that he thinks would not translate well to anyone who had not bared witness. Who would understand the significance of finding Locke on his knees in the surf, cradling Aaron, had they not seen Charlie do the same thing once? You had to have lived and fought alongside Juliet and Sawyer to be able to distinguish their tiny figures from a dozen others scrambling for cover when the canisters fell from the sky. Would Penny understand what he meant if he explained the last time he saw Desmond he was digging a grave that he claimed was for Charlie but everyone knew was really for him?

"I know, it's crazy. I guess, I just needed to hear you say it."

"It's not that I haven't thought about it too." Kate's voice drops to a murmur. "Part of me wants to track down his real dad or anyone in Claire's family." She says watching Aaron play across the room. He's standing on his tiptoes appearing as wobbly as his tower as he stretches to triumphantly place the last block on top. As he does, the blocks scatter and Aaron tumbles too. He doesn't cry out but he looks a bit stunned and Kate goes to him.

Jack chooses this opportunity to leave. He had timed his visit to coincide with Aaron's nap but had instead arrived just when he woke up. Seeing the boy, still drowsy, crawl into Kate's lap and making it look like it's the most comfortable and safest place on earth, doesn't warm his heart. He can only see Aaron as another piece of evidence, proof of the unwritten and unnatural history attached to all of them.

"I have to go."

She follows him to the door with the boy in her arms. "Jack, please, stay for dinner."

"Thanks, but I have to work."

"You said you came from work."

"Another time, Kate."

Kate looks like she wants to say more and take him aside for hug or a lecture or something. Instead she simply says, "Sure, another time."

He manages a wave for both of them but he doesn't wait to watch them respond similarly. It's not until he sees the sign showing the distance to Santa Barbara that Jack realizes he's driven twenty miles north of his exit, the last forty minutes lost to a dialogue that's taking shape in his head. Even though he's nowhere near empty, he stops for gas and fills up. He cleans the windshield and checks his tires and oil. It's the right things to do before setting off on a journey, even if his is only taking him a few steps to the phone booth outside the station.

He had her number committed to memory but Jack brings the flyer with him. Like his fussiness with the car, going to see Kate had only been procrastination. As soon as he called Penny the first time, he knew he would end up telling her everything at some point.

She answers the phone immediately, suggesting it rarely leaves her hand. "Hello."

"Penny?" It's the first time he's said her name out loud and he almost chokes on the awkward intimacy.

"Jack."

A silence hangs between them but it's a necessary buffer, giving them the time to brace themselves for whatever comes next. When he finally speaks he says, "If you want justice I can't help you, but if you're looking for answers I might have some."

Penny doesn't reply immediately. He can almost hear her weighing the sincerity of his proposition. It's doubtful she trusts him completely, but like him, she's gone too far to turn back. Her exhale comes out shaky, however her voice sounds bright. "Alright."

He has no idea if she's still in California. "Can you be in Grover Beach the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes."

He thinks if he had suggested the moon she would have answered the same. "Meet me at 55 Cypress Street," he says, giving her the address of the Silverman beach house. "It's a cottage just off Pismo State Beach."

"Jack, thank you."

His instinct is to reply with some blithe comment about not thanking him yet but instead he just hangs up. The dial tone hisses an unnecessary warning that echoes in his ear all the back the way to the car.

x x x

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

x x x

Over the sound of the whirring blades and sputtering engine, Aaron's cries are deafening. Everyone else is mute, too stunned by events of the last hour, of the last six months, to protest alongside the baby. No one joins his screams even when the helicopter dips to the right side, and then drops suddenly from the sky. Jack surrenders his hold on Jin's abdomen and grasps a bar on the cabin's ceiling. His hands, slippery with blood, fail to connect and the momentum throws him up against the wall. A dizzying array of green and brown spins outside the open entryway, inviting them back to the island. For the second time that day, Jack believes he's going to be thrown out of a helicopter.

They seem to fall forever but it must have been only a matter of seconds before the blades come to life again and the helicopter hangs in the air, steadying itself, before rising. Jack is tossed to the floor and crawls to the back where Jin's crumpled body has slid. Hurley uncurls himself from the ball he had folded into even before the threat of a crash appeared and together they roll Jin onto his back. Sun unbuckles her harness and scrambles over the seat to her husband's side. Jack does not object when it is her steadier hands that takes over the sutures.

Aaron continues to cry, an unseen siren clutched in Kate's arms. Her head remains bent, covering his tiny body with her own. All that's visible to Jack is her hair, which flies above her seat as if immune to gravity. Beside her, Sayid risks a glance back; he's unsurprised but still apologetic. Between his limited piloting skills and the spotty repairs, Sayid had warned them all it was unlikely he would get them off the island, let alone to anywhere safe.

Just as the coast comes into sight, Sayid twists the helicopter away from the ocean and Jack braces himself for what he thinks is an emergency landing. But the craft remains stable and deliberately goes back across the island. They should not be wasting their fuel but Jack realizes Sayid needs to see for himself what he had described.

Aaron quiets as they fly over the community of houses and the cabin becomes eerily peaceful. Hours ago, before Miles had thrust Jack out of the helicopter escorting Ben off the island, he had watched helplessly as canisters of a nerve gas called Novichok were tossed below, a cloud of white vapour dispersing before they even hit the ground. Jack forces himself to look at the results. Even in the growing dusk, the bodies are unmistakable, scattered across the grass, some hanging half inside doorways and peeking out from the surrounding brush. No one, thankfully, is identifiable from this height but a quick count reveals they must be the only ones to have escaped unscathed. Sayid does not linger. He changes course and they fly speedily away from the carnage.

Jack remembers watching with his parents the thrilling footage of the evacuation of Saigon. He was fascinated by the helicopters that hovered over the roof of U.S. embassy like a flock of giant birds, gathering a never ending line of people in their claws. It was years before he understood what it all meant. At the time, Vietnam was merely a word whispered by his parents and spoken solemnly by men on the television; some sort of disease, he had speculated. But even at five years old, Jack got a sense that he was witnessing the end of something iconic.

It wasn't just the chaotic departure by air or even the flood of death that lay in their wake that pushed this memory to the forefront of his mind. As Jack watches the island become smaller and smaller and then finally disappear, he is overcome with the finality of the moment. It was over. They had survived but they had also lost. He couldn't begin to list what had been lost.

x x x

As he recounts their flight from the island to Penny, Jack can't stay still. He paces between the kitchen and the den, pausing each time to touch the cotton curtains hung over the deck's glass doors, closed to hide the view of the beach. They do not, however, keep out of the sound of the waves. Their crashing penetrates the cottage and acts as a secondary narrator to his story. Penny sits in a chair in the centre of the room, hugging her legs, her sad eyes tracking Jack's every move.

"And the rest, what you read in the papers, was true. They found the seven of us on this pile of rocks; I wouldn't even call it an island. There was no vegetation, no fresh water, no shelter. We collected rain and caught fish, and slept under the inflatable raft that had carried us there once the copter went down." Jack recalls when the ocean liner appeared out of the mist after three weeks, everyone of them out of their minds with hunger, thirst and anxiety, and Aaron so close to death, they were convinced the boat was a mirage. "We started our story from there. It was simpler, safer. If we stayed quiet about the rest, we hoped _they_ would leave us alone."

Penny gives a slight nod and rests her chin on her knees. Jack collapses, exhausted in a chair across from her, runs his hands over his hair. He wants this to be enough for her, the confirmation of their lies, but considering he had yet to mention Desmond, he knows they are nowhere near done.

"What do you think they did with Ben?"

This is Penny's first question and it is unexpected because she too seems to be avoiding asking about Desmond and for Jack, he has barely thought of Ben since they left.

Whether Miles was Ben's captor or rescuer, Jack no longer cares. Yet he can't help recall the trace of humanity he saw on Ben's face as Miles hung Jack's body over the edge of the helicopter and untied his hands, a strange gesture considering it was followed by throwing him out of the craft. Jack doesn't remember the fall, only the sensation of hitting the water. The experience of being enveloped in a pool of cool blackness was almost soothing and he had just let himself sink further and further until he opened his eyes and noticed the corpses still reined to their airplane seats at the murky bottom. The desire not to die like them prompted him to break his plunge and he kicked hard until he broke the surface.

"I don't know."

It was the same response he had for Sayid and Kate when he later met them, Sun, Jin and Hurley back at the beach before they left in the their own helicopter, the one Michael, Desmond and Sayid has crash landed a month before, on their escape from the freighter.

Penny does not ask anymore questions. She gets up and mixes them both a drink and waits for him to continue. Her quiet patience is a prompt in itself so he swallows the scotch in two gulps and begins another story, one where only the end is important now.

"I understood you spoke to Desmond on the freighter."

"Yes." The tears she has been holding back begin to pool in her eyes.

"When he returned to the beach, he seemed much taller, stronger. He was so buoyed by hearing your voice, he could have lasted another five years on the island."

Penny makes a sound that lands somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"And I think he could of if he hadn't gotten it into his head that he and Faraday, the physicist, could go back and save Charlie."

"Go back?"

"Yeah, I was never clear on what they meant but in his elated state, Desmond had me half convinced they could do this." He sighs and rubs his hands together. "They would go off into the jungle, back to the site of hatch and do some sort of experiment. This went on for a few weeks, I think. It's hard to remember, a lot was going on. The camp had reunited and most people were living at the barracks, for safety. Everyone expected the freighter people would return once they got a new helicopter. I stayed on the beach with a few others to help Sayid try to fix the one we had." He realized these details were unimportant; he was stalling, wanting to leave Penny with the image of a stalwart Desmond as long as he could.

"Over time, Desmond's mood began to change, he would return from the jungle forgetful, belligerent, panicky. Sometimes he thought Charlie was alive, other times he thought he had died that very day. Faraday was same. On occasion they didn't even seem to know each other, sometimes they didn't know any of us. Sayid said this had happened before, when they were on the freighter."

Jack tries to state all this as gently as possible. If he didn't think Penny would know he was lying, he would have made something else up. The best he can do is not mention the headaches and the nose bleeds and that near the end, Desmond didn't even know who the woman was in his cherished photo. "We tried to stop them from going out. At one point we sedated Desmond, tied him to a tree and planned to take him to the barracks but he escaped with Faraday and they disappeared for days."

He paused to let this all sink in. The sun has gone down but neither of them moves to turn on a light. The darkness makes it easier to continue.

"Then Faraday returned alone. At first he didn't remember what happened or who Desmond even was but eventually his memory returned. He said they had gone down to the Looking Glass, to try their experiment there."

"Where Desmond drowned like Charlie." Penny says this like she knew it all along. How she guessed, Jack does not know, other than she had come here prepared to hear the worst.

"He never put it in those words but that's what we gathered. Kate and I planned to investigate but we didn't get a chance because just then John appeared with Aaron. He said Claire, the baby's mother, was ill with a fatal and highly contagious sickness. He wanted us to keep the baby safe, quarantined. Juliet, the other doctor returned with him because she thought she could save Claire. The next morning Hurley appeared saying no one was sick and John had gone crazy and stolen Aaron. That was the same day as the gas attack."

Jack was not quite sure Penny's even heard the last part. She's risen and pacing the same course he had before. He wants to say more, that perhaps Faraday is not the most reliable source, that maybe Desmond managed to survive their experiments and wherever he was, he had missed the gas attack. But even if that was true, Desmond had been so far gone when he last saw him, physically and mentally, Jack doubted he had the heart or energy to survive on his own. It would be wrong to offer her false hope.

Penny reaches for her coat. He thinks she's just cold and was about to suggest building a fire when she exits the room without saying a word and heads to the front door.

"You're leaving?"

After all the trouble she's gone to get him to talk, Jack assumed this would only be the beginning, that Penny would have a thousand follow-up questions and she would deride him for lying and ask him to help her expose the island and all its madness. Instead, she can't flee his presence fast enough.

"Yes."

"Is there anything else you want to know?"

"Like what?" Penny looks up at him, her face is hard with challenge and he realizes he has nothing to add that would soften the blow he's dealt her.

She slips out the door and he is tempted to reach out and grab her arm, force Penny to stay and listen to all the rabid memories her determination has unleashed, from his father's death to the failed raft to Ben's operation. He needs to tell her about meeting Ana at the airport bar and letting Boone die and how amid the chaos he lent his heart to two women claimed by other men. He wants someone to understand that it doesn't bother him to get on an airplane but show him a ping pong table or a vintage computer and he goes weak in the knees. But he lets her go because his story is not hers, and the combination of their grief would be overwhelming.

Still, he can't help ask her one more thing. "Are you going to keep looking?"

Penny strides purposely down the Silverman's driveway; her slumped shoulders are the only sign that she's delaying her breakdown until she has some privacy. She does not answer him until she opens the car door. "I won't bother you again, Jack."

x x x

Jack has become averse to touching their bodies. His patients are too brittle, too soft, too human. A scent he never noticed before follows him home from the hospital, sickness and death. He showers twice, three times a day trying to shake it off. Even though he's only just returned, he takes a leave of absence. Then he discovers the odour is found outside of work. It coats the walls of Hurley's institution; it floats through the air at Kate's sparkling clean house and clings to Aaron. When he smells it at his mother's, he realizes that it must be him and not everyone else.

This sensation only appeared after speaking with Penny. Instead of unburdening himself as he hoped, he feels heavier. He doesn't regret meeting with her, not quite, but he thinks if he had to do it over, he would have continued their lie. Where has telling the truth gotten either of them? He imagines the heavy cloyingly sweet smell of defeat now follows Penny too, replacing the trail of lightness and hope. So he is shocked when he sees her again to find nothing of the sort. She radiates a quiet calmness and confidence that stuns him. If it's all a front, it's a solid one. The worst he could say was she looked tired.

They run into each other on the U.C.L.A. campus and Jack is convinced this meeting is accidental. It was clear when she left the Silverman's cottage that Penny wanted no more from him and even if she had, there was no longer a reason to manufacture ways to get his attention. It is also clear when he finds her clutching a copy of Faraday's thesis that she has not relinquished her search. But there is something different about Penny and it takes him all night to pinpoint what that is.

After some weak protests and he is not quite sure why he insists so hard, she agrees to join him for a drink. They choose to remain on the campus since the student pub is an unlikely place for anyone who might care to see them together and it's a casual enough environment not to encourage any serious talk. They order beers and a plate of appetizers and joke about the decades in age difference between them and the rest of the pub's occupants. He tells her about the lecture he gave this afternoon, stepping in for a sick colleague and she laughs politely at his exaggerated description of failing to make the room's A/V equipment work.

"Have you been in L.A. this whole time?"

He means since they last met but she perceives the question differently. "Off and on since 2001. I'm just back from London. My father…" Her voice drops off and she pokes a soggy mozzarella stick with her fork.

"Your father?"

She drops the fork and picks up her glass. "He had an accident. There was a home invasion."

"I'm sorry."

"He'll be fine. He always lands on his feet." She says this derisively, implying it's no compliment.

"Did they catch them?"

"It was one man and he got away. The police have no leads and my father, as always, is being uncooperative. I'm certain he knows who shot him." Even though she was the one to bring him up, she quickly changes the subject. "How are your friends?"

It's fine for him to expose himself to her but he feels protective of the others and shrugs away her question. "They're fine."

"And the children?"

"Also fine."

"Good. That's good."

"Did you learn anything?" He nods at the bound sheaf of papers at her side entitled _D__evelopment of a High Performance Parallel Computing Platform and Its Use in the Study of Space and Time._

"No," she sighs as her fingers graze the cover. "I came to speak to Faraday's former adviser, hoping to have him translate this into lay terms but the only thing he did was send me to the bookstore." She pulls a slim paperback from her purse and hands it to Jack.

_Slaughterhouse 5 __or, The Children's Crusade: A Duty-Dance With Death_ by Kurt Vonnegut. Jack shakes his head and genuinely smiles for the first time in Penny's presence. It's not just that Faraday's title makes more sense to him but Jack suddenly gets a flash of Sawyer, his goofy lopsided glasses perched on the end of his nose, reading this novel on the beach. He hands the book back. "I might have more luck with the physics, if you want me to take a look."

"Really? That would be wonderful."

The gesture surprises them both and Jack places the heavy book it in his briefcase before he changes his mind. He has no desire to understand Faraday's theories, anymore than he wants the island to be found again by anyone, but he has an urge to make things up to Penny. He also wants to see her again because even though she triggered it, she's the only one who seems to keep the ghostly smell at bay.

They are freer with each other after this. Penny returns to the subject of her father and without implicating him fully, indicates that he has continually thwarted her search for the island. Jack reveals that he couldn't bear to watch the DVD she gave him and out of nowhere he admits to her, before he had even admitted to himself, that he often feels Charlie's presence watching him, judging him. He can't believe he has actually said this out loud but Penny doesn't look at him like he's crazy. She reaches across the table and pats his hand.

They leave soon after this with plans to meet again to discuss Faraday's thesis. Penny presses her hand against her stomach and requests a meeting place with less greasy food options. There seems to be a mutual desire to remain clandestine so their homes are out of the question, as are more public options. Despite its distance from L.A., the familiarity to both causes Jack to suggest they return to the Silverman beach house and surprisingly Penny agrees. He says he'll check with Marc and get back to her with a date.

Outside the pub, Jack jiggles his car keys and asks the question which has bothered him from the beginning. "Why me?"

Penny smiles weakly and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "Desmond always wanted to be a doctor."

Only after they part does Jack figure out what is different about Penny. While she referred to the island several times, she only mentioned Desmond once and when she did, she spoke of him in the past tense. Even though this is how he thinks of him, of all of them, it sounds wrong coming from her and he's not sure why.

x x x

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

x x x

Chocolates had felt like an appropriate gift when he bought them but now they seem almost insulting. Jack leaves them sitting on the passenger seat and approaches the house empty handed. The walk from his car to the front door is over much too fast so he stalls for a moment on the steps, wiping his shoes on the mat, taking off his sunglasses, and studying with great interest the huge urns of orange poppies that flank the massive door. He catches a glimpse of movement behind the frosted windows and presses the doorbell quickly before he gets caught hanging around like this.

The door is opened immediately by a young woman in a maid's uniform who ushers him in and indicates Jack should follow her. They walk through a series of enormous rooms before she shows him the entrance to the patio. He thanks her and takes a deep breath before joining the foursome seated around a table in the shade bythe pool.

Hurley sees him first and rises. "I didn't think you were coming."

"I'm sorry I'm late." Once he's there, Jack finds it strange to think he was nervous about seeing them today. "Welcome home."

"Thanks."

They both seem unsure whether to hug and do an awkward shuffle before they decide on a one arm embrace with mutual pats on the back. When they part he gets a clear view of Kate. She gives him a warm smile but remains seated with a squirming Aaron in her lap who is too busy sucking on a popsicle that leaves his lips and teeth stained purple to make much notice of Jack's arrival.

Mrs. Reyes gestures to the empty seat beside her. "Sit, sit. We just started to eat, Jack. Help yourself." The table is covered with meats, salads, fruit and bread.

"Caught at work?" Kate asks as she puts Aaron in his own chair.

He sits and watches Mrs. Reyes pile food on his plate, reneging on her insistence that he help himself. "No, actually. I've been taking some time off from the hospital."

"That's great," Hurley says, bringing a plate of chicken over from the barbeque. "Maybe you and I could take a road trip up to Portland this weekend."

"Portland?"

"Yeah, I got a postcard from Sayid yesterday."

"Portland?" Jack repeats and shakes his head, not able to reconcile the idea of Sayid in Oregon. "When I heard from him last, he was staying with an uncle in Frankfurt."

"And Rome, Madrid and London. He has family everywhere. I guess they all left Iraq after the war or before this war or you know."

"Hugo, I don't think it's wise for you go off road tripping somewhere, so soon after you've finished your treatment." Mrs. Reyes looks knowingly at Jack and Kate trying to recruit their support.

"Ma, I'm fine. I can check in with Dr. Mills from the road. Besides Jack is a doctor."

"I don't know, Hurley. Maybe your mom is right. You should take time to readjust to being home. We could go later."

"But he probably won't be there later. For all we know he has an uncle in the Arctic to visit next week."

"After what happened, I don't know how that man can get on an airplane like it's nothing," Mrs. Reyes comments and crosses herself.

Jack swallows and wipes his mouth. "I'm sorry, Hurley. I have plans with a friend from college this weekend. I'll have to catch Sayid next time he's around."

"If you can stand hours of listening to Raffi, Aaron and I will come with you."

"Thanks, Kate," Hurley says flatly and drops his napkin on his plate, crossing his arms. "But I don't want you to get in trouble."

Kate looks down, embarrassed for forgetting the conditions of her parole and busies herself wiping Aaron's sticky mouth and hands.

Mrs. Reyes picks up the conversation, turning it to the garden and Kate asks polite questions about the flowers and fruit trees. Jack concentrates on eating and avoiding the pointed looks Hurley keeps shooting at him from across the table. The awkward small talk continues until Hurley's brother arrives with his daughter causing Aaron to clap his hands in delight over the appearance of a playmate. Apparently this means it's time for a swim even though Mrs. Reyes tries to insist they wait half an hour after eating. Kate takes Aaron to change and then sits on the pool steps with Diego as the two kids splash around.

Jack's left alone with Hurley who seems to have gotten over his huff. They make their way to the driveway where a basketball hoop stands to one side and Hurley retrieves a ball from inside one of the garages.

"So, you're doing better?" Jack asks as they warm up.

"Better? I didn't go there to get better. How could I?"

"Why did you go?"

"Because it was familiar and felt safe, at first."

"What made you leave?"

"I got tired of hiding."

"I see."

They make a half hearted attempt at one on one. Hurley's able to monopolize the ball but keeps missing his shots. Jack finally shoots and misses too and the ball disappears into a hedge. He crawls into get it and then throws the ball to Hurley who catches it and tucks it under his arm.

"So…"

"So?" Jack asks, wondering if they are heading back to the conversation they started the last time they played ball together.

"So this friend you're visiting this weekend, have I met her?"

Jack feels his face flush. He scratches his cheek and drops to tighten his shoe. "Marc? No, I don't think so."

"I see," he says in an accusing tone that raises the hair on the back of Jack's neck.

"What do you see, Hurley?"

"What you're doing is not cool."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I'm sorry I can't go with you to see, Sayid."

Hurley cocks his head. "You know, I would have supported you going to talk to Penny, if you had asked me first, she deserved to know what happened, but the rest is just wrong."

Jack stands with his hands on his hips. "We seem to be having two different conversations here, Hurley. Want to help me out?"

"Jack, cut the crap. I know you're spending time with Penny."

It's no act for Jack to look shocked and confused at everything Hurley's accusations imply. "I don't know what Kate told you about the poster but I—."

"Kate didn't tell me anything. Charlie did."

"Charlie? Charlie Pace?"

"Yeah."

"Hurley…" Jack walks over to him and touches his shoulder. "Charlie's gone."

Hurley shrugs off Jack's hand and takes a step back. "I still see him."

Jack sighs and looks around the driveway. "Is he here now?"

"No."

"Did you tell your doctors about seeing Charlie?"

"Don't patronize me, Jack. She was Desmond's girl. It's not right."

Jack's patience suddenly snaps. "None of this is right, Hurley. All you have to do is go around to the other side of your house and hear that little boy calling Kate 'Mommy' to know none of this is right. But what are our choices here? We can't go back and fix what's wrong. It's time to move on."

"I think we can go back, should go back."

"Look where that notion got Desmond."

"I'm not talking about time travel."

"It's ridiculous anyway."

Jack leaves Hurley rambling about their mistake and heads to his car. The door handle is searing hot, as is the seat and steering wheel. He turns on the air conditioning and sits trapped between the cold air and burning heat. The box of chocolates he bought for Hurley sit accusingly on the seat beside him. He pushes them to the floor.

Hurley knocks on the window. "Jack, wait! Don't go."

"Tell Kate I said good-bye," he calls through the glass and then starts the engine.

He gets lost trying to find his way out of Hurley's neighbourhood. Jack pulls over to consult a map. He's halfway home when he stops again to look up another address. Since the news has already made it to the gossipy afterlife, he decides to throw caution to wind. He finds Penny's building with ease and slips through the controlled entry without buzzing when someone exits. Seeing the elevators are nowhere near the ground, Jack finds the stairs, and takes two at a time. When he reaches her floor, his heart is racing like it was during Hurley's interrogation.

He knocks sharply, hoping she's home and not too mad about him changing their plans like this. He hears footsteps and can tell she stops to look through the peephole before opening the door.

Her face appears worried, startled. "Jack, what's wrong?"

His answer is to sweep Penny into his arms and hold her tightly. When his heart has slowed somewhat, he releases her and holds her face, one thumb stroking her cheek.

"Is everything—?" she asks again, still puzzled but he stops her question with a kiss.

Normally his lips touch hers first with hesitation, something soft and easy to resist because he's always so sure, no matter how many times he's done this, she will push him away. Somewhere between kissing her good bye two days ago and Hurley calling him on exactly this, Jack's confidence with Penny had grown tenfold. This time there is no wavering, he kisses her like he's convinced she is his and her hunger matches his own. She responds in kind, opening herself to him more. Her hands find the way to the back of his head and she pulls him closer, deeper.

Penny eventually breaks the kiss, closes the door and guides him into her apartment. As she shows him into the living room, he notices she presses two fingers to her lips for a moment and smiles, as if wanting to remember the new intensity. The gesture sends a shiver down his body.

They sit on the couch in the living room which is sparsely furnished, indicating this has never been a home, merely a temporary place to rest her head. Now in this unfamiliar space that is entirely hers, he feels his old shyness returning. Penny seems to sense this so she closes the distance between them. She tucks herself under his arm and rests her head on his chest. His fingers smooth her hair and he closes his eyes, lets his body sink into the couch and relax.

Jack feels the need to explain his intrusion if not what spawned it. Telling her what Hurley said is one of the many things that will remain unsaid between them. "I'm sorry, I just needed to see you."

"It's okay. I missed you too."

"Do you want me to go?"

"I think if anyone really cared, they would know we're together by now anyway."

In the last two months they've keep a protocol of only seeing each other on the weekends and never in Los Angeles. They were trying to keep some semblance of stealthy behaviour but there was also an unspoken agreement that they not indulge in each other too often. They had met in a series of hotels up and down the coast but whenever Marc was not using it, they returned to his family's cottage in Grover Beach. It was where the lies first became truths and hope was crushed. Despite this, it is the place where they feel most comfortable with each other. Perhaps there, the walls have absorbed the whole story, so they serve as some sort of sanctuary from the past that made touching Penny feel like less of a betrayal than he knew it to be and he thinks she feels the same way.

When they returned to the beach house for the second time, to compare notes on Faraday's thesis, the meeting had been all business at first. They had sat on the deck with papers spread before them. Unfortunately, Jack had little to add to Penny's research. Faraday wrote like he spoke, a scattering of ideas that seemed to be missing significant verbs. Jack's background was no help since this type of physics had more in common with philosophy than science. After two hours going in circles of what ifs and maybe sos, Penny had looked ready to dump everything in the ocean, including Jack. She had excused herself and wandered off down the beach. When she came back he could tell she had been crying.

Jack had left her sitting on the deck staring into space while he drove to the store to pick up dinner. He bought enough for a feast: lobsters and steak, potatoes and corn, a variety of pre-made salads, a selection of pastries and a few bottles of wine. He thought if he could get her to eat, some of her spirit would be revived. When he got back she was still sitting on the deck watching the ocean with her back to him. The sun was setting and blanketed her hair in a pinkish red glow. He expected if he had touched her then, she would have felt like fire.

It was later, when it was dark and cool, that they had found their way to each other, a fumbling of hands and lips and half whispered apologies that never left their mouths.

Jack would like to think he hadn't thought about being with her until it happened, as if the spontaneity of it all made it better, but she had haunted his dreams even before he met her, when she was just a faceless blonde, one of the many women who symbolized his failures. She could have been Sarah or Juliet or even Claire or Shannon. It was only after they met in the park that the dreams had become more personal, more intimate. They usually began by her saving him from some unseen danger and ended with him on top of her, attempting to possess every inch of her body. In his dreams, they were always being watched by someone, usually Desmond but sometimes Kate or Charlie and one time, Ben.

He was entirely grateful that this sensation had not transferred over to reality. Like now, when he sits with his arms wrapped around her, Jack feels utterly alone with Penny, like they are the only two people left in the world.

x x x

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

Jack wakes wrapped in tension, a sense of urgency ringing in his ears whose context disappears as soon as he opens his eyes. He lets the feeling fade, rather than attempt to chase the dream and soon his body relaxes. Outside, the gulls call to each other, as they did thirty years ago, when he would wake in this same house ensconced in a bunk bed, his belly still sore from laughing at Mr. Silverman's Mel Blanc impersonations. Years after that, he awoke in this very bed with his prom date at his side. Then the gull's squealing seemed to be taunting both his hangover and the fleeting events of the night before that led to the end of his virginity. 

He recalls these memories from another life as he brushes the hair off the nape of Penny's neck and presses his lips against the exposed skin. He has no idea what time she came to bed, so he's not surprised that she doesn't stir, even when his hand slips from her hip to her stomach. Something about averting a strike by the workers who clean the office towers she owns in London had kept her on the phone most of the night and into the early hours of the morning. 

Even though the day holds no responsibilities, and Jack could very well stay in bed pressed against Penny if he wished, he can't ignore years of breeding that tells him to get the day started now. It feels decadent to sleep in past seven on a Tuesday. Besides, he's returning to work next week and should get used to being on a schedule again. He rolls over on his back and kicks the sheet off, lies for a moment stretching, inviting his limbs back to life. Finally, he gets up, and throws on a t-shirt, socks and pair of shorts. 

Before he leaves the bedroom, Jack remembers to open the curtains. The light scatters across the bed, bringing with it a mellow warmth that will turn into an oppressive heat by noon. Penny likes to wake up to sunshine; a habit she says is born of living most her life on an island prone to greyness. Without the curtains closed, Jack would wake up even earlier, so they've settled on this routine.

Downstairs, he finds his shoes and sets off on a run. He starts on the beach but does not last long. The sand is too unstable and it strains his calves so he cuts across a parking lot and runs through the residential streets parallel to the beach. They offer just enough of an elevation to make it a reasonable challenge. After an hour, he slows to a jog and heads to the main street. He buys water and a coffee and sits at a table outside reading the paper. When he's done, he returns to the bakery for some croissants and as he walks back to the cottage, he plans out the day. Barring Penny having anymore business to do, he'll suggest they drive to one of the wineries they pass on their way up and always say they will visit.

The house is silent when he returns. He enters from the deck's sliding doors, crosses through the den and tosses the newspaper and bag of croissants on the kitchen counter. He gets a glass of water and returns to the den, drinking it while looking out the glass doors. The ocean looks particularly inviting after his long run and he's torn between going for a swim by himself now or waiting for Penny to get up. He's still debating when a voice calls out from behind him that tears Jack away from the quiet day, the quiet life, he was planning.

"Hello Jack." 

If he hadn't just finished his drink, Jack thinks he would have spat it out or more likely choked. He turns to see Sayid sitting in the shadows on the couch, settled in a way that suggests he's been in the room observing Jack ever since he's returned.

"Sayid." Jack can't help the shock and unease that settles over him and the greeting comes out less friendly then he expected. 

"I apologize for the intrusion. It could not be helped." 

"How did you…?" Jack's sentence trails off and his eyes rise to the staircase. Had Penny let him in and if so, where was she now?

"Penelope is gone, Jack." Sayid leans forward and gestures toward a chair. "I think you should sit down."

Jack remains standing, clutching the empty glass in his hand. He hasn't heard anything since _Penelope is gone_, spoken with such finality that Sayid sounded convinced she was never coming back.

"Jack, please sit. I don't have much time and there are things you need to hear."

He doesn't remember moving to a chair but somehow he finds himself in one across from Sayid. Only then is he aware of how different his friend looks, more polished than he's ever seen him, but warier, and more tired than he ever appeared on the island. "Did Hurley send you?"

"Hurley? No." Sayid reaches into his pocket, retrieves a vial of pills and tosses them to Jack. "Do you know what these are?"

"Isopropamide," Jack reads the label. The prescription is made out to someone called Dean Moriarty. "It's an anti-cholinergic drug, used to treat vomiting or diarrhea."

"During the Iran-Iraq war, the prelude to the conflict you know as Desert Storm, all Iraqi soldiers were issued a pill containing a higher dose of this drug, one they were to carry at all times. It was expected a good portion of our attacks were to be chemically based. If for some reason a soldier's gas mask failed, this drug had a good chance of reversing the effects of a nerve agent."

"Are you trying to tell me that…?"

"Let me finish, Jack. In 1985 I was in the infantry defending the city of Basra when we employed Sarin gas against the Iranians. Just when the attack began, my friend Amir's unit arrived after long trek from the mountains near Umm Qasr. Most of the men, including Amir, had discarded their masks on the way because they were bulky and heavy to carry but they all had their pills. Twenty-five percent of his unit survived."

Jack puts the vial down on the coffee table. "Only twenty-five percent?"

"The use of the pill itself is quite dangerous, it was considered a last resort. It was more effective if taken approximately twenty-four hours before exposure to the gas but when do soldiers get such an advanced warning, even from their own side?"

"Sayid, there was no pharmacy on the island distributing pills as the canisters rained down."

"Considering what you told me about the Tempest Station, I am certain Ben must have stocked some antidote for his own people."

"It's crazy, Sayid. We saw the bodies."

"Don't you think it was strange that Locke brought us Aaron the day before the attack and tried to keep us all away with a warning about an epidemic. It was as if he knew something was coming that he thought the baby couldn't possibly be protected from."

"And what, after that, he went back home, lined everyone up and told them to drink the Kool Aid. Can you see Sawyer falling for that or Juliet? I saw them running for their lives."

Sayid shrugs. "It's a theory, and it's the only explanation I have for this." He reaches into his briefcase, pulls out an envelope and hands it to Jack. Inside are several photographs of the same black and white image zoomed in at different settings and angles. The first one looks like a view from above of the old beach camp. Jack can make out a scattering of shelters and the bonfire. The next photo focuses in on a group of individuals gathered in the kitchen area sitting around the table. It looks like they are playing cards. The third photo is a grainy close-up of their faces. 

Sawyer. Michael. Bernard. Charlie. Desmond. 

"I don't understand. Was this taken by the freighter people before Naomi came?"

"Jack look closely, this was taken after the gas attack."

"After? Charlie is in this photo."

"As is Michael."

"So this has to be from before Michael left with Walt."

"That's what I thought at first. But until they met on the freighter, the one time I know Michael and Desmond were ever in camp together was the day of Ana and Libby's funeral. In the hours of daylight left between the arrival of _The Elizabeth_ and us leaving to get Walt, I can't think of an opportunity or a reason that these five people, one of whom was out of his mind with worry for his son and another who was so drunk he couldn't stay upright, would have had to sit down and play cards together."

"Then it's some sort of sick forgery." Jack throws the pile of photos onto the table and knows exactly why Penny is not here. She has certainly seen this and heard Sayid's story.

"I've had it checked."

"Where did you get it?"

"That's not important."

"Not important? Sayid, you come here telling me everyone has been miraculously resurrected and have formed some sort of island poker club and you don't think it's important for me to know where you got this? 

"Not everyone survived. I've been told there are twenty-six people living on the island and ten of them are ours."

"Who?" Jack can't help but ask even though he doesn't believe that the five people in this photo are alive, anymore than he thinks they have five counterparts out of range of the camera. 

"Does it matter?"

"No, because this is insane. Even if I believe that people had access to Isopropamide or something like it, that would not have helped Charlie or Desmond."

"We never saw their bodies. What if Charlie never died or what if whatever Desmond did with Faraday worked?"

"You know what I think, Sayid? I think you're feeling terribly guilty about surviving, so much so that you think all this is more probable than at some point on the day of the funerals, those five people sat together in the kitchen."

"I have to believe, Jack." Sayid puts the pills and photos back in his briefcase. Jack notices his hands shakes as he does this.

"So, you came here to tell Penny."

"No Jack, I came here to tell you. There are things that I'm doing, people I'm working with, I needed someone else to know what I know." He sighs and locks his briefcase. "I also came here to warn Penelope. Her name is on a list, along with her father's. He's the one I got the photo from and he's lucky that's all I took that night."

"Who are you working with?"

"Jack, if you don't believe what I just told you, the rest is just as insane. Some days I can't believe it myself." He stands and walks over to the glass doors, stares outside. "It's quite pretty here. I can see why you like it. Familiar but not too familiar."

Jack follows and stands behind him. He feels far too shallow to ask this question but he does anyway. "Did you show Penny the photos?"

"I did and I gave her a copy." He turns away from the window. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't realize it was like that, between the two of you."

"It's fine. It wasn't anything," he says quickly.

Sayid looks like he wants to say more but makes no comment. He picks up his briefcase and heads to the front door. With his hand already on the handle he says, "If Hurley ever remarks that my postcards have stopped coming, I would like you to tell the others what I told you today and tell them I was doing what I thought was best for all of us."

Jack wonders if this is the last time he will see Sayid. His exit seems to be as conclusive as he imagines Penny's departure. "I will."

"Good-bye Jack."

"Good-bye."

After Sayid leaves, Jack peaks out the front window to confirm Penny's car is indeed gone. He remains standing in the hallway neither thinking nor doing anything. His mind remains blank, unwilling to absorb any of what just poured out of Sayid or what it might mean. Eventually, he goes upstairs to shower. He passes the bedroom and notes Penny took the time to make their bed, a gesture he finds both kind and cruel. 

x x x

It takes sometime to realize the knocking is coming from his door and not his head. This makes Jack more determined to ignore it so he rolls over on the couch and reaches for the pillow to put over his head but it's not there and when he cracks open an eye, he sees it lying a foot away on the floor, beside the empty bottle of whiskey; it might as well be a mile away. He closes his eyes and rests his arm on top of them.

"Go away," he manages to say, but it comes out as a raspy whisper barely audible over the conversation coming from his television. _Can you hear me? __Yes, yes I can hear you. Did you just say Desmond?__Yeah, he's here, he's with me. Hey, are you on the boat? What, what boat?_

Thankfully, the knocking stops. A moment later, on his way to losing consciousness, Jack wonders if anyone was ever there in the first place. The next thing he knows, someone is shaking him awake and calling his name. He feels coolness across his forehead and he opens his eyes to see a blur of a man standing over him calling his name. 

"Dr. Shephard. Dr. Shephard. Wake-up. The paramedics are on their way." 

Just before he passes out again, another voice comes from behind the man. _Can you hear me? Can you hear me?_It sounds like the recording playing on the television is stuck on a loop but then it seems to break with the dialogue he has memorized. _Can you hear me? Jack, it's Penny. How many of these did you take?_

The voice fades and is replaced by other sounds, a dance of familiar words— gastric lavage, saline, irrigation—accompanied by a flurry of mechanical beeping and gagging. He's numb except for his throat which feels likes it's on fire. When he realizes he's been intubated, he claws at the tubes in his throat only to have his hands held at his side.

The next thing Jack remembers is waking up and his attention is immediately drawn to a rawness stretched from his stomach to his throat. His hands flutter to his mouth, relieved to find the tubes gone. Someone catches one of his hands and squeezes it. He finds he does not have the energy to see who it is and returns to sleep.�

"Am I at St. Sebastian's?" These are the first words he utters when he wakes again and sees Kate curled in a chair by his bedside.

She puts down a magazine and comes over to the bed. Her expression is that of concern and pity, gentler versions of the ones she wore when he saw her last, outside the runway at LAX. One night, two nights ago? "Shhh, don't try to talk. You're at St. Mark's."

Kate offers him some water and he drinks slowly, relishing the cool relief it brings as it passes through his body. He doesn't remember exactly what happened but he doesn't need to in order to put it all together. The combination of Oxycodone and alcohol brought him to the emergency room and led to his stomach being pumped rather than where he assumed he wanted to be taken. He can't quite recall if his intention was temporary or permanent relief, perhaps at the time they seemed like one and the same.

"What day is it?"

"Saturday. You were brought in last night."

"By you?"

"No, your building manager called 911." Kate takes a deep breath and then holds it. He can tell she's wrestling with whether he's stable enough to talk more, perhaps about the other night at the airport when he did everything but get down on his knees and beg her to help him go back. Finally she exhales and he's unsure if what comes out is what she planned to say but it surprises him nonetheless. "Penelope Widmore rode with you in the ambulance. She called me."

"Penny?"

Kate smiles tightly. "I imagine when you're feeling better we're going to have a long conversation about that."

"Is she still here?"

"She was waiting." Kate stares at him hard. "Do you want me to check?"

"No. It's okay." Three months ago Penny disappeared from his life as quickly as she appeared. Now he's supposed to believe she chose to enter it again, last night of all nights. Doesn't she have bigger problems to solve? More important people to— No, he puts thoughts of her aside. His brain is still half asleep and is too busy trying to remember to breathe. "Does my mother know?"

"She's away in New York. I guess that's why Penny called me." Kate perches on the side of his bed. "I thought we'd lost you."

Jack rolls over and faces the empty bed next to him, closes his eyes. "I'm not the one who's lost."

The hospital keeps Jack for another twenty-four hours and only releases him after he's seen a psychiatrist and made an appointment to come back the following day. When Hurley arrives to pick him up, Jack's sitting on his bed, dressed and ready to go, staring into a mirror attached to the bedside tray.

"If you're deciding whether to shave it off, my vote is yes," Hurley announces when he enters the room.

Jack fingers the beard that has taken over his face. "I don't think they let people like me have sharp objects in here."

"That's why you need to be nice to a hot nurse and let her do it."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"Dude, there's not going to be a next time."

Jack nods and slips on his jacket. "Thanks for coming to pick me up."

"No problemo." Hurley swirls his keychain around one finger. "I got the Camaro fixed."

Jack forces a smile. "You always told me it was a sweet ride."

"Um, before we go, you should know someone's out there." Hurley shifts his weight back and forth, and nods to the hallway.

"Press?"

"I think it's Penny."

Kate had reported before she left yesterday that Penny was gone. Jack had been relieved, it made everything easier, took away his decisions. She could flit away like she had never been there, return to being just an image in someone else's photo and a voice captured on film sitting in his DVD player. But the thought of not ending this now, and always expecting her to pop out to seize his conscience and heart in her teeth would be no good either.

"Do you want to see her?"

Jack walks passed Hurley, out the door and into the hall. At first he could not see her at all and then she came into focus, a slight figure in the distance, twisting a sweater in her hands, sitting on a bench, staring blindly at a wall. She doesn't see him until he's practically beside her.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Jack looks behind him. Hurley is hovering protectively in the background, pretending to be interested in a poster about STDs.

"I didn't expect to see you again."

Penny stands. "I didn't expect to either. When I found you, my god, I thought you were gone." 

"What were you doing there?"

"Jack, what were you doing? Are you okay?" Penny reaches to touch his face but her hand only hovers over his cheek and then falls to her side. "I'm so sorry."

"For what? This wasn't about you." That comes out all wrong. He takes a step back, hangs his head, feels like banging it against the wall. One of things he had promised himself was not to blame her for anything. He knew what they once had was built on a fragile foundation that was never meant to be anything more than comfort. She was his Aaron, his version of Hurley's ghostly Charlie, his own ethereal talisman sent to remind him of what had passed and what was still to come. And for her, he had never harboured any illusions that he was nothing more than a substitute, a warm body that had once shared the same goddamn piece of land as someone else. "Penny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"You're right. I had no right—"

He cuts her off and says quietly. "Let's just, let's not do this, okay?"

"Okay." Her eyes fall to the floor and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "I saw in your condo, the maps, the tickets." Her eyes rise to meet his. "You believe Sayid's story too."

Jack sighs and slips his hands into his pockets. "I decided I couldn't ignore it."

"I'm leaving tonight for Sydney. I have a lead. That's what I came to tell you."

He's relieved they're back to where they began, an exchange of information and advice. "What sort of lead?"

"A fishing boat whose crew reported experiencing strange phenomena in between Fiji and the Solomon Islands. I'm meeting with their captain."

"You need to be careful. Sayid implied you were in danger."

"Implied?" Penny laughs. "Jack, he told me he had been sent to kill me."

Jack is taken aback. He couldn't have been more shocked if Penny said he had been sent to tickle her. "I didn't…He left that part out."

"Well, whatever loyalty kept him from following those orders, I'm eternally grateful."

"And he gave you back your hope." 

"He did," she says and can't hide the smile that creeps up behind her eyes. Penny looks passed him to Hurley and then back at Jack. "I should let you go. Your friend is waiting and you need to rest."

He touches her arm lightly. "Will you call me if you find anything?"

"I will." They stand for a moment, taking each other in one last time. Jack senses the next time he sees her, and he knows he will, everything will have changed for good, whether Desmond is at her side or not. She comes closer but waits for him to make the next move. He accepts her invitation and puts his arms around her. Her arms follow and she buries her face in his chest. Jack rests his chin on top of her head. He's slightly fazed but not saddened by how well they seem to fit together. "Please take care of yourself," she whispers and squeezes him tighter for emphasis.

"You too." And he means it just as much but he instead of pulling her closer he releases her. There are no formal good-byes. Penny lets him go too and doesn't find his eyes again. She turns from Jack and walks away without looking back. 

Hurley comes to his side. "So that's Penny."

Jack says nothing, just watches her go. They remain standing in the middle of the hallway until she disappears and then make their way to the nurse's station where Jack signs himself out. They don't say anything until they're in Hurley's car. As they pull out of the parking lot, Jack asks, "Any postcards from Sayid lately?" 

"Yeah, he's in Paris. Did you know he used to live there? He was a chef! I can't believe that. Do you ever remember him cooking one meal on the island? I feel like we were cheated. I mean he could fix a radio just by looking at it, can you imagine what he could have done with a coconut and some fish?"

Jack lets Hurley ramble on while he holds his face to the open window and puts on his sunglasses. The wind and sun feel good, almost cleansing. He thinks perhaps the day Penny found her hope, he found his too, only his came paired with another more recent wish being crushed; one he didn't know how much he wanted until it gone. That, combined with the idea he had left people behind was almost too much.

He allows his mind to take him back to the photo of five men who probably would have never been friends, now forever joined in the most complicated of histories, passing the time with a game of cards. For the first time he allows himself to imagine another photo of five women chatting around the fire – Juliet, Claire, Rose, Danielle and Alex - he hopes. He feels lighter all of a sudden, a sensation he never reached with the pills and booze. Maybe this means he's kicking his way back to the surface, just like he did when he fell from Miles' helicopter almost a year ago. 

Out of nowhere, Jack feels a smile take over his face and�reaches for the radio,�fiddling with it until something satisfying appears.

_Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band.  
Won't you take a ride on the flying spoon?  
Doo, doo doo._

Hurley sings along with the chorus. "Ahh, a Creedance fan. So was my dad."

"My friend's dad always used to play this album at their beach house."

"Good times."

_Bother me tomorrow, today, I'll buy no sorrows._

_Doo, doo, doo, looking out my back door._

When the song is over, Jack takes off his sunglasses and says, "Hurley, there are some things you need to know."

x x x

The end.


End file.
